A television producer returns from LA to his roots in the North of England. There he marries a Californian (who's still getting used to the cold) and fathers his fifth child at the age of 57.

Monday, June 23, 2014

To all parents: a warning!

The Evidence

Here’s a warning for every parent, ignore it at your peril.

I’ve been ignoring messages like this for years. Jo and I think we’re reasonably responsible when it comes to child rearing: we don’t allow Izzy out of our sight on walks; she wears wellies in muddy puddles, eats lettuce and broccoli, says please and thank you, is sorry when she breaks things, and never watches television after 9pm.

So when we see a warning ‘for every parent’, we assume it means every other parent. Wrong.

This is a warning for people who ignore warnings: Beware of your Apps!

I have 106 of them on my iPhone. They make me social, find me restaurants, play my music and tell me the weather. My current favourite is Tube Exits, which enables me to cross London in the fastest time possible, by telling me which carriage to get into to save me walking down the platform at the other end. I know this may not be particularly helpful to people living in Kirkwhelpington village, but in London it can save an awful lot of time.

Another, called FlightRadar, lets me identify all the planes flying over my house into Heathrow – how nerdy is that? And my mornings wouldn’t be the same without The Journal app. It’s a great way to stay in close touch with the North East.
I love my apps.

Little Miss Innocent

More than half of them belong to Izzy – you can easily spot them: Cinderella Fairy Tale Dressup, Minion Rush, Pet Beauty Salon, and so on. She has her own iPad folder, into which she surreptitiously moves some of my apps, just because she finds it funny when I can’t find them.

Our iPhones and iPads are all linked together, which means it’s slightly embarrassing in the middle of business meetings when a loud whoosh on your phone announces that: “Your Minions miss you – come back and play with us”. It’s part of having a 5-year-old. And invaluable for long car journeys.

I know she can’t download her own apps because I use a password so complicated even I have to look it up. But yesterday morning I heard my wife utter a loud shriek of parental pain. I dashed downstairs to find Jo staring at her iPad, and Izzy looking sheepish.

“Tell him, Izzy,” Jo commanded. “Tell Daddy what you’ve done.”

The sheepishness turned to fear.

“No, Mummy, you tell him. I said sorry.”

Jo pointed at an email from the Apple Store. It was a receipt for an “in-app purchase” for 90 jewels.

“Ah, sweet," I began, but then I saw the price: £34.99.

You could have heard the “Whaaaaat!” 300 miles away in Kirkwhelpington.

“Wait,” said Jo. “There’s more…”

I looked at the inbox. It went on forever. In the last week Izzy's “in-app” purchases had cost £839.

Now I knew why Izzy had been boasting, “I’ve reached the next level, Daddy,” while I’d marveled at her dexterity.
A lot of apps are ostensibly free, but rely on “in app purchases” to make the games remotely fun. Unlike downloads, they don’t need you to add a password every time. As we just found out.

I immediately rang the Apple Store and spoke to someone in the Philippines called Jeff. He was terribly nice about it and refunded all our money without question.

I’m not surprised. Recently, Apple had to shell out £20million in refunds to American parents whose kids had inadvertently behaved like Izzy, and pressed some “Buy” button to purchase jewels or coins on their games.

Jeff told me how to reset our devices, so it can never happen again. Here's how you do it: click on Settings, then General, then Restrictions, which you set to ON, set a special passcode (which you never give to your child), and then you can switch ON the restrictions for your In-App purchases.
Do it now.

And also set the age restriction on your apps. But beware: I put a 4+ restriction on all of ours.
As a result, this morning I couldn’t download The Journal. For some inexplicable reason it has a 12+ rating.

So, if you're in Newcastle, and have bought a copy of this seemingly innocuous daily newspaper, don’t leave your copy lying around, in case your 5-year-old sees some of its 12+ content. Including this article. You have been warned.

Translate

Or become a follower...

About Me

Having spent the last 3 decades in television, I've returned to my home in the North of England, married a Californian and fathered my fifth child at the age of 57. Izzy is now 4, which means that I've turned 60.
I read somewhere that having another child in your fifties makes you feel younger. Sure, I’ve rediscovered the joy of jigsaws, and I can recite whole episodes of Peppa Pig, but since Izzy arrived, I can’t say it’s been exactly rejuvenating. Constant toddler-carrying hasn’t removed my middle-aged spread, instead it’s given me a permanent twinge that feels suspiciously like the need for a hip implant. My youthful, understanding, sympathetic wife dresses me in black jumpers and white teeshirts, but I don't think anyone's fooled. Now I'm trying out another diet: the third round in the battle of unashamed vanity against absolutely no willpower.